A Consecutive Eight
by E-chan5
Summary: Zell Dincht: SeeD, martial artist, blonde, hero. We know what the public thinks of him, but what about his friends and family? Rating for language and graphic violence. DEAD
1. I Squall

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII

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**I. Squall**

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'Holy hell, this kid is freaking _fast_.' It took every minuscule ounce of concentration for Squall not to have his face hammered into the floor by the hyperactive blonde, who was now channeling all that endless energy into graceful, lightning-quick movement. Even his gunblade wasn't much of an advantage; the martial artist wouldn't hold still long enough for Squall to even aim the damn barrel.   
  
"I think...I...need a...break..." Squall heaved, leaning over and planting the heels of his palms on his knees, sucking in air, droplets of sweat swinging off the brown bangs that dangled before his eyes.  
  
The blur of tan, blonde and navy blue halted, stopping on a dime, and bright cornflower eyes stared quizzically at him, the owner barely panting. "What, already? I haven't even started sweating yet; you sure?"  
  
Squall leveled Zell with a hard, even stare, and the younger SeeD shrugged apologetically, opting instead to flop down onto the grass, flat on his back, arms tucked behind his head. "Hold your hands over your head, it'll help you breathe easier."  
  
"I know," Squall snapped, but paid no heed to the advice, slowly sinking into a cross-legged position, hunched over. "Have you been doing nothing but training, Zell? You weren't nearly this fast the last time we fought together."  
  
"Ah ha, well, while _you've_ been cooped up in your office scribbling legal crap, I've been bustin' my ass in the Training Center, and I'm twice as strong and fast as when we fought Ultimecia!"

_ Squall watched as Zell scrubbed frantically at the leather of his gloves, finally tugging the accessories off and rubbing his hands red in the pinkish, steaming water collected in the basin, reaching for the bar of soap to form another cleansing film over his hands. Zell rinsed his appendages, then glared at them, scrutinizing them, reaching again -angrily- for the soap and frothing up another lather.   
  
Squall exchanged a glance with Quistis, who shook her head sadly and patted his shoulder. "There's nothing we can do. The blood isn't as real when it's not on your own body. This is something he has to deal with...it's the price he pays for relying on himself rather than a weapon to fight." Rinoa nodded sadly, placing an arm around a trembling, crying Selphie, and the younger girl turned her face into Rinoa's shoulder, away from Zell.  
  
"This was coming for a while," Rinoa whispered to her, leading her over to the hotel bed, sitting her down gently. "We can only be there for him." Quistis sat on the other side of Selphie, patting her back, giving Rinoa a sorrowful glance when the dark-haired girl began to tear up at the sound of Zell's muttered curses.  
  
"Zell..."  
  
"Won't...fucking...damn stains always..."  
  
"Zell."  
  
Zell wouldn't spare a glance towards his leader, but answered him anyways. "I can't get it off."  
  
"Zell," Squall answered in his gentlest manner, which was just short of a frosty command, "there's nothing on your hands."  
  
" 'Course **you** can't see it," he spat, his fingers and knuckles livid as he scratched at them with the flecks of soap beneath his fingernails. "You think it's still not there when it washes off? I can still see it, still feel it, still fucking **hear it**-" He broke off abruptly, turning swiftly away from his companions, giving them his back. His soapy fists clenched at his side, shaking, angry red scratches adorning their backs, and water and suds dripping to the floor by his feet.   
  
Squall readied himself for another famous Dincht Outburst, but instead was shocked to hear something come from Zell's mouth that he never imagined would.  
  
A very, very quiet, but unmistakable sob.  
  
And as Zell sank slowly down to sit upon a nearby bed, his face hidden tightly behind cupped hands, his shoulders shook ever so slightly. The girls immediately recognized where they were needed and rushed to his side, Rinoa and Quistis sitting on either side of Zell with Selphie kneeling before him and pulling at his hands, pleading with him to let them see his 'pretty face.'   
  
"I'm being stupid," Zell hiccuped quietly as Squall shifted his weight uneasily, leaning against the wall. "This shouldn't be such a big deal..."  
  
"Shhh, you're not being stupid," Quistis murmured, rubbing his back, then smoothing his wild blonde hair back from his face. "We all feel guilty about who we've killed-"  
  
"These were **people**, Quis!" Zell interrupted desperately, moving his hands to look at her with bloodshot eyes, silver trails lit by the dying sunlight streaming through the open balcony doors of their hotel room. "Real people; that man, whose spine I snapped, he might've had his own Ma back in his own home town. He might've had little brothers or sisters, or maybe a girlfriend or even a wife and a baby. He had dreams and thoughts of his own, and he was only doing his job as a soldier. Did I have to kill him because of that? Because we were on opposite sides? If I had just taken a bit more time and caution, it would have been just as easy to knock him out-"  
  
"Don't lie to us, Zell Dincht, because we both know in that situation; if you hadn't stopped him right then, he would have shot one of us."  
  
"Just a foot up, with a chop instead of a punch, and he would've been down for the better part of the day-"  
  
"What, so he could have attacked us again when the next wave of Galbadian soldiers pour in?" Quistis chided sternly. "You did what you had to, Zell-"  
  
"You didn't see his eyes-"  
  
"None of us want to-"  
  
"**I** didn't want to either!"  
  
"But that's something you have to realize, Zell; you have to be stronger than others, because you have to get in much closer in order to attack. You will **always** see their eyes."  
  
Zell buried his face in his hands again, with a louder -albeit strangled- sob, and Selphie stood, pulled his head against her stomach, kissing the crown of his head and rocking him. Zell's arms latched around her waist, and he finally let it go.  
  
There was a muffled cry, and loud sobs began to choke their way from Zell's throat as he fell from the bed to his knees, face pressed tightly into Selphie's stomach, who, for once, wasn't smiling. She bowed her head, silent tears on her own cheeks, and she slowly, wordlessly, stroked Zell's hair, the other hand resting gently at the base of his neck.  
  
Squall gestured to Quistis and Rinoa, who nodded, leaving along with their leader to give Zell and Selphie, the two who probably connected the best, to speak with each other in privacy._

"Squall?"  
  
Squall blinked, and glanced over at Zell, who was staring at him with a concerned expression. "Yo, you okay, man? You look kinda sad..."  
  
Squall started; since when had his stoic default expression began to slip away and show emotion? He would practice in front of the mirror tonight, much to the protests of Rinoa, he was sure. "...Whatever." He glared sharply at the grinning SeeD, who had spoken in perfect unison with him. "Knock it off. It's bad enough when Quis does it."  
  
"Psh." Zell waved his comment away with his hand. "Chill out, baby, I'm just foolin' with ya. But seriously, Squall," and an expression of actual thoughtfulness creased his features and painted his usually smiling lips with a small frown, "tell me what's up, man."  
  
Squall turned back to the 'sky' of the training center, chewing restlessly on his bottom lip, a habit he had regretfully picked up from the fighter beside him. "...why do you fight with gloves?"  
  
" 'Cause I like the idea of being able to beat you all down in a fair fight."  
  
"_No_, I mean really."  
  
"The real reason?"  
  
"..."  
  
" 'Cause I sucked at everything else. Besides, I think I'd be too dangerous with a weapon, being jumpy an' all. And I'm clumsy, too."  
  
Squall gave Zell and incredulous look, who shrugged again.  
  
"Not with my body, but with stuff. I tried a sword, and I somehow kept cutting myself. I tried a gun, but I'd get bored and start shooting up the landscape. My attention span's too short for me to handle anything but myself."  
  
"...Makes sense."  
  
"Mmm."  
  
"You regret it sometimes?"  
  
"What, doing martial arts?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"...maybe sometimes. But there's more pros than cons."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Geez, Squall, I've never known you to be so damn talkative. Usually you're telling me to shut the hell up by now."  
  
Squall offered the smallest hint of a smile to what he considered one of his best friends, even though he was annoying at times. Two people could not experience terror, hatred, death, elation and victory together without ending up close. "I guess you're just rubbing off on me."  
  
"Not a bad thing," Zell pointed out smugly, secretly glowing from the intended praise. "But to answer your question...the pros are as follows:," he began to tick off reasons, something he knew Squall found irritating, and relished in it, "it gives me an outlet for all this energy. It helps keep me in shape. It helps me clear my mind when I'm pissed off or whatever. It makes me concentrate, so I can rationalize better. It makes me feel more alive-"  
  
"What the hell does that mean?"  
  
Zell gave Squall a pointed look. "Have you ever been in a bare-handed fight? I mean a real one, with blocks and kicks and punches, not just flinging your fists around like a barbarian." He sounded disgusted, a tone Squall thought didn't fit his voice well.  
  
"No."  
  
Zell stared at Squall thoughtfully, then stood and brushed bits of grass and soil from his pants, holding out his hand to help his friend to his feet. "C'mon then."  
  
Squall set a hard stare on Zell. "I'm not suicidal."  
  
"I'll go easy on you." Zell unstrapped his gloves, tucking the pieces of leather into his pocket. "See, lookit? No gloves. So even if I hit you accidentally, it shouldn't bruise."  
  
Squall gnawed harder on his bottom lip, then stood warily, facing Zell with uncertainty. He held up his fists awkwardly, attempting to mirror Zell's stance.  
  
Immediately Zell sighed, straightening and walking over to Squall. "No, no, man; your build is all wrong for my stance. You can't just pick up what you see. Your legs are way longer than mine, dude, and you've got a shorter torso than I do. Here." Zell circled Squall adjusting him here and there, moving his foot slightly further out, bringing up his arms. "Stop bein' so tense; you gotta kinda hunch, almost go limp, but not all the way. Like this." And with the graceful ease of a veteran, Zell slouched into his familiar step, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet in what seemed like restlessness but was really just alert agility.   
  
Squall frowned, but attempted to loosen up, shaking out his shoulders, but in reality only ended up appearing like a Deling drunk. He snarled when he saw Zell poorly containing a snicker at his stance. "No, listen...um, here. Trying this. Stand up straight."  
  
Squall wasn't happy, but did what he was told. "Why am I letting you do this?"  
  
"So you can defend yourself in case something happens to your gunblade. Now do it. ...Right, like that. Okay, now pretend that you're in battle. Lionheart's in your hands. Pretend you're holding Lionheart."  
  
"I feel ridiculous," Squall grumbled, but again obeyed, holding his hands before him, miming his stance.  
  
"Close your eyes. Forget you're here; you're in a field. There's a monster in front of you."  
  
"What kind of monster?"  
  
"Geez, I dunno...use your imagination. Okay, it's a Grat."  
  
Squall smirked. "That's pathetic."  
  
"Fine, a Ruby Dragon. Now, fix your stance so that you're about to attack."  
  
Squall, for some odd reason feeling a wisp of something he could only describe as nostalgia, hunkered down, but frowned, feeling unbalanced without his gunblade. "I'm off."  
  
"Fix it. Balance yourself. Can't land a good hit if you're unbalanced."  
  
Squall shifted his weight, and his world became level again behind his closed lids. He let out a slow breath, envisioning the ferocious creature snarling and spitting, magma dribbling from between dagger teeth and searing the ground below, bubbling and burning soil.  
  
"...Ladies and gents, Squall has just found his stance."  
  
Squall blinked his eyes, looking down at himself and realizing that, if he moved his arms slightly to his sides and clenched his fists entirely, that he was indeed in a martial arts stance. He lifted his eyes to Zell who, for once, wasn't grinning madly, but genuinely _smiling_ with pride at his newest student.   
  
'How does he do that?'

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	2. II Irvine

A/N: I do not own Final Fantasy 8.

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II. Irvine

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A scream of power shook the air hovering in the corridor before the Training Center. Irvine shuddered, a sharp chill streaking down his spine, and waved two students fleeing from the center over to himself. "What was that?" he asked sharply, one hand on the butt of his gun, loosening it from its holster.  
  
"That...um, that was Zell. He's...pretty pissed about something, and taking it out on the poor trees and pipes and concrete walls in the training center," a pale girl answered him; Irvine had the sneaking suspicion that she was not fair-skinned due to lack of sunlight.  
  
"Can you talk some sense into him?" the boy asked, looking slightly put out in a way that a man would be put out that a Chimera would decide to make a new home in his front yard. "He's gonna demolish the whole place, and then we'll have nothing to work in."  
  
Irvine nodded, willing his fingers to uncurl from the handle of his pistol, and, steeling himself, marched into the training center, fists clenched anxiously at his side as he tread past giant trees with foot-diameter holes in their trunks, smashed concrete, and random chaos obliterated in an obvious fit of complete and utter rage. Zell was unhappy.  
  
Irvine happened upon the blonde standing freakishly still in a man-made clearing, said clearing made by said man. With the artificial sunlight spotty on the muddy grass and the martial artist's fists balled tightly at his sides, leather gloves squeaking indignantly as he shook, Zell appeared ready to explode. Something was wrong, Zell was temperamental and emotional, but never had Irvine seen the SeeD so angry-  
  
The sharpshooter blinked; Zell's skin was heavily flushed, as if he had been sunburned badly all around his body-  
  
Irvine was forced to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from screaming an oath. Berserk Curse; someone or something had placed a Berserk Curse on Zell. A Berserk spell enhanced the victim's physical abilities, but gave them only a one-track mind of 'kill, kill, kill.' Couple that dangerous enhancement with Zell's already limited rationality, lightning speed and incredible strength, and one had a very lethal opponent. He could even attack allies, if he were angry enough, which, judging by the grisly landscape and the many Grat carcasses littered about him, was very much the case. Course of action: approach with extreme caution, and one hand inside your pocket on that last remedy, praying it would work.  
  
"Zell?" Irvine began, remaining at the edge of the clearing, his left thumb already unscrewing the cap of the small glass bottle containing the all-healing powder. The powder that, obviously, had to be ingested to work. As if life wasn't hard enough.  
  
There was a twitch in the shoulders of his friend, but Zell did not dare to face him. "Irvine, it would be a very good idea for you to leave right now."  
  
"I know. Trust me, it's a good idea to me too. But I've got a remedy here for you, if you'll just come over here and take it."  
  
"Can't," Zell grunted, and Irvine heard fury and hatred -not directed towards him, of course- lacing his very tightly controlled voice. "If I move, it'll probably be to kill you."  
  
Irvine took a cautious step past the brush. "Then stay there, and I'll come to you-"  
  
"Irvine." Zell's voice was warning, and Irvine saw the tightly corded muscles in Zell's calves pull impossibly tighter. "The spell will wear off."  
  
"You might hurt yourself or someone else. Just stay there-"  
  
"_Irvine_. If you say one more word there is a very good chance that you'll unfortunately be the one I'm going to hurt." The leather again squealed as Zell's fingernails bit into the palms of his gloves, his knuckles straining against the constricting material.  
  
Irvine gulped, and noticed that he never _had_ noticed before how big Zell's muscles could get; of course, all those other times he had been rather relaxed, and had a shirt on. Without the aforementioned article of clothing, Irvine could see each and every muscle in the blonde's powerful back quivering as he attempted to restrain himself from tearing at something else, whether it be living or not. He supposed, were he 'that way' and not interested in Selphie, then he would be extremely turned on...but instead of seeming sexy, Zell was more like a wild Blue Dragon or something else more dangerous. Staying here could be hazardous to his health.  
  
Then again, leaving could be hazardous to everyone else's, or even Zell's.  
  
In the worst cases of the Berserk Curse, the victims eventually turned onto themselves as prey, having nothing else nearby and going temporarily insane with anger. With Zell's ability and knowledge of all the muscles and bones in his body, he could do very much damage to himself should the brunette leave him alone.  
  
"Zell, I-"  
  
"**Dammit, Irvine**!" Somehow, with impossible agility, Zell's hands were already clenching Irvine's collar, lifting the cowboy straight up into the air, and Zell seemed even shorter than usual to Irvine- but a great deal more frightening. "When I tell you to run, you _fucking **run**_!"  
  
Irvine took the moment to gratefully dump the contents of the remedy bottle into Zell's open and furious mouth, clapping his other hand over his lips to keep the fighter from spitting the bitter concoction onto the soil below. Zell's eyes widened, and he choked, dropping Irvine and wrapping his hands around his own throat. Swallowing hard, gagging soon after, Zell fell to his knees and struggled for breath. Irvine, panting slightly, knelt on a single knee beside his friend and patted his back, soothing him; remedies were nasty things when there was a frame of mind to overcome, such as the result of a Berserk or Confuse curse.  
  
As the blood drained from Zell's skin, leaving it still slightly but healthily flushed, recovering its more comfortable tanned look, Zell moved, rocking back onto his heels. "Th-thanks," he sputtered, making a face. "I think."  
  
"Definitely thanks," Irvine assured him, straightening the collar of his duster and shirt with a tinge of annoyance. "You coulda ripped my head off."  
  
"I wanted to," Zell admitted remorsefully. "Wow, I've forgotten how much I hate being Berserk."  
  
Irvine chuckled, plopping down next to Zell and plucking at the grass. "Sure is a lot different from when you were a little kid back at the orphanage. Wasn't a day that'd go by when you wouldn't cry."  
  
Zell sighed, tugging his gloves from his palms and rubbing them against his shorts to rid them of sweat. "Was I really such a whiner back then?"  
  
Irvine shot him a curious look, having removed his hat to fix his ponytail. "I thought you could remember."  
  
"Well, spots here and there. Nothing to detailed. Some words, some faces...a couple of instances. Did I really cry every day?" Zell looked disappointed with himself.  
  
Irvine saw this and slapped his hat back on the crown of his head, tilting it down in his signature gesture of amiability. "Kind of. But we all cried back then; you just voiced your unhappiness more often back then. Besides, you were Seifer's outlet for his anger back then, I'm pretty sure I'd cry _now_ if I were in your position."  
  
Zell chuckled, ducking his head. "It felt so great to deck him in the face after remembering all the horrible things he said and did to me."  
  
"Well, there was one time when Seifer _didn't_ make fun of you for crying..."  
  
"Oh? When was that?"  
  
Irvine smiled sadly. "One of the worst days of our lives. The day you got adopted."

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_"Who'zzat?" Irvine whispered to Selphie, who shrugged, clinging tightly to her friend's hand and chewing on a lock of her hair.  
  
"Children, I have someone to introduce to you," Matron told them kindly, gesturing to a plump, kindly-looking woman with brown hair pulled back from her face and a flower printed dress. "Her name is Emily Dincht. She would like to meet you and maybe make friends with each of you."  
  
The children looked around at each other uncomfortably. "Make friends?" Selphie asked timidly.  
  
"Yes, hopefully," Matron said, although her eyes were sad.  
  
The children weren't quite sure of what to think of this. They all exchanged glances again, moving into a tighter pack and gazing at the woman with wide, curious eyes. Zell clung tightly to an odd, worn, stuffed teddy bear, burying his face up to his nose into its plush head.  
  
Emily smiled at each of them. "Maybe I should start by telling you about myself, and then you can all tell me your names, okay?"  
  
The children conferred with each other silently, then, as one, nodded in agreement.  
  
"Well, as you all know, my name is Emily. I have a nice little house in Balamb, which is an island north of here. I love to cook, and I like the beach and going horseback riding. A few years back, my husband died...of a disease. I've been very lonely, and I would like a friend to keep me company in my home. That's why I came here. Would any of you like to stay with me at my house?"  
  
The children bunched together, frightened about being separated, but then a small voice in the back spoke up. "You...alone...?"  
  
Emily nodded, unable to discern who had spoken, but grateful. "Yes. I'm alone. And I'm very lonely all by myself."  
  
The children parted in surprise to let the smallest of them all pass through, the said toddler clinging warily to his bear. "An' you...jus wanna friend?"  
  
"Yes...I would like a friend very much." Emily smiled warmly, lowering herself to one knee, holding out her hand for the tiny blonde to shake. "What's your name?"  
  
"...Zell." With that, little Zell ignored her outstretched hand and walked straight up to her, attempting to encircle her in a hug but unable to reach completely around. Emily, greatly surprised and touched by this gesture, hugged him gently back, tears pricking at her eyes as she patted his hair down. She sent a meaningful glance up at Edea, who nodded, smiling regretfully.  
  
"Zell has always been our little giver. He can cry and scream-"  
  
"A **lot**," Seifer broke in, causing the other children to murmur their affirmatives and Zell to shoot a tearful glare over at the young bully.  
  
Matron cast a stern look at the eldest blonde, who silenced himself. "He can cry and scream pretty well, but you'll never find a sweeter boy."  
  
Emily looked at the youngster -the boy was so **small**!- who was currently burying his face into her skirt, sniffling and mumbling something about Seifer being a 'meanie,' and nodded up at the Matron again. "Yes."  
  
Matron appeared troubled. "Are you sure? You've only just met them, and it's such a big decision. There are many other children here..."  
  
"I know. I know it's very soon, but I know he's the one. I..." Emily glanced down at Zell and patted his head, standing to talk to Edea. "He needs me. He needs someone. Face it, if no one else comes for these children, he would be the one to suffer the most."  
  
Matron could not argue, and regretfully nodded with a slow, deliberate motion, turning to her children. "Kids...I have something to speak with you about. Could we go to your room?" She lead the procession into the orphans' collective bedroom, and sat each child on the bed nearest to the one she herself settled onto. Emily stood nervously in the doorway, Zell not leaving her side, hanging onto her skirt and looking on in confusion and a bit of wariness.  
  
"You all know that...there would come a day when one or more of you would have to leave to be with your own families, right?" When she received a full round of nods, she plowed ahead, determination strengthening her voice. "Well, when Ms Emily came here, she wasn't just looking for a friend...she was looking for a new child that could be her family. She decided...that she would like Zell to be her new family."  
  
It took a moment, but soon all the children caught on, and they all turned to Emily with horror on their faces, Zell mirroring their expressions. There was a flood, and all the children stampeded towards Zell, swallowing him up and pulling him protectively from Emily, who was at a loss, and nearly ready to cry herself for tearing these children apart.  
  
"You can't have him! He's **our** famiwy!" Selphie protested tearfully, hugging the confused blonde tightly to her, attempting to drag the boy away and back to the bed.  
  
"Selphie, we'll still have everyone else," Quistis pointed out in all her six-year-old wisdom. "She's lonely, she wants a family."  
  
"He's not her famiwy!" Selphie snapped, still managing to look harmless and cute even when she was sobbing with anger.  
  
"Le'him go."  
  
Everyone turned to look at Squall, who had, up until then, remained completely silent during the entire ordeal, leaning against the back wall in an odd display of premature insight.  
  
"Squaw! But we wove him! He shou'd stay wif us!" Selphie cried, clinging so tightly to Zell that the little boy was having trouble keeping his feet.  
  
"He don't need us no more. Eve'yone leaves sometime." And with that bit of wisdom shared, Squall walked over to Zell and gave him a timid hug, pulling away as soon as he had embraced the younger child, turning and running outside.  
  
"Squall!" Matron called after te distressed child, but started, shaking her head and sighing. "Leaving him alone would be for the best. He would hate to think we baby him."  
  
The children now stared awkwardly at Emily, who shifted uncomfortably beneath their gazes. Then, with a mournful glance towards Zell, Quistis approached the boy in question. "We love you," she said, and then hugged Zell, who was beginning to appear as if he would like very much to burst into tears with the girl clutching him.  
  
"We'll miss you," Irvine pitched in, giving the youngest blonde a wavering smile, hugging him quickly and moving to plop himself into a corner to play with a ragged set of blocks; everyone, however, could see his shoulders trembling violently.  
  
Seifer walked over to Zell, giving him a glare, which his rival eagerly returned. Then, he did something surprising; he held out his hand for Zell to take. The younger boy did so, in confusion, and, even more bemused, allowed the taller blonde to shake his hand. " 'Bye," was all Seifer would offer before he ambled morosely from the house to the beach below, probably to taunt Squall, if he had any say in his actions.  
  
Selphie glared long and hard at Emily, who tried to offer a cautious smile only to have it rejected. "He can't go wif you," she snapped, and, grabbing Zell's hand, began tugging him towards his bed.  
  
"Sephie..."  
  
Everyone present turned to look at Zell, whose usually shouting voice was now soft and unsure. He sniffled hard, a tear leaking from his eye, soon followed by another. "I sorry..." he offered, dropping his bear to pluck her hand from his. "But I...wanna go wif her."  
  
Selphie jerked, hurt by his actions and words. "How come?! I though' you wan'ned to stay here! Wif us!"  
  
"She don' have no famiwy," Zell tried desperately to explain, "an' you have lotsa famiwy right here, wif Matwyn an' Squaw an' Quis'is an' Irvy an' even Seifew...But she don' have nobody. She's lon'ey."  
  
"But Zew'l..." Selphie hiccuped tearfully. "I wan' you to stay..."  
  
Zell cast one last mournful look at her, scooped up his bear, and padded over to Emily, holding up his arms in indication that he wished to be picked up. When she obliged, and settled the child comfortably onto her hip, he began to cry, looking down at Quistis, Selphie and Irvine. "I wove you...but I wan' a momma..."  
  
Emily herself began to cry, and hugged the young blonde to herself, kissing his hair and holding him tightly. "Thank you Zell...thank you very much..."_

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"Huh..." Zell laid back on his arms, gazing up at the sky with an odd expression on his face. "Is that how it happened?"  
  
"Yeah. You shoulda seen your mom; she was so happy she was bawling more than you ever did." Irvine smiled softly. "It sure was quiet there after that...kind of depressing for a while, too. Selphie refused to let anyone even think about touching your bed, even though all your things went with you to Balamb. And she made Matron set an extra place at the table each night, even though we tried to tell her your weren't coming back."  
  
"Wow. I never thought she'd be such a clingy kid," Zell voiced, gnawing on his lower lip thoughtfully.  
  
"Well. She was very protective of everyone, although you in particular. I think she liked to fancy herself as your big sister or something, even though you're a bit older than she is. She did the same thing when Quistis was adopted a year later, too."  
  
Zell didn't know how to answer this, so his simply stood, stretching his muscles, rolling his shoulders and grimacing. "Ow. I really gave myself a workout destroying everything in sight."  
  
"By the way," Irvine asked, rising to his own feet and towering over the SeeD, "what cast that Berserk Curse on you? I didn't think any of the Grats or even the T-Rexsaurs had that kind of spell in their arsenals."  
  
"Oh." Zell offered Irvine a sheepish grin, cheeks flaring pink as he scrubbed at his hair. "I kinda...cast it on myself...by accident."  
  
Irvine's eyes widened as he stared at Zell, then laughed and shook his head. "Okay, so maybe you aren't that different after all."  
  
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	3. III Rinoa

A/N: I do not own Final Fantasy 8.

III. Rinoa

"Zell, what on Hyne's good green Gaia are you doing?" The blonde man peered curiously over his shoulder, slightly ruffled that she would be so indignant about something so insignificant. "I'm climbing a tree."

Rinoa fisted her hips, glaring up at him. "Yes, I can see that. Why are you climbing a tree in the training center instead of meeting me in the Quad like you promised?"

The expression on the SeeD's face was priceless, and he loosened his grip slightly in reluctancy. "Oh...oh yeah. That was today, wasn't that?"

"Yes, Zell, yes it was. You were supposed to help me learn how to play the violin, remember? You promised me."

Zell rolled his eyes uncomfortably towards the leafy canopy above him, face glowing slightly red as the blood rushed towards his head from the exertion -and effects of gravity- from hanging upside-down from a branch for over a minute. "Yes, I know I did...I'm not that great, you know...just a stroke of luck, really..."

"You're copping out!"

"I am not!" As Zell removed a fist to shake in her direction, it dawned upon him: that particular hand was vital in keeping his hold on the branch he was currently clinging to with monkey-like tenacity. Soon thereafter, his body met the grassy floor with a startling _whumf_, raising small puffs of dust and sending stray clippings of lawn spiraling into the air. Dazed, blinking, but yet unhurt, he slowly dragged his eyes into focus to put Rinoa's fuzzy face into proper light to see her frowning down at him.

"I will zap you into oblivion if you break your promise. You know I can, and I most definitely will."

Zell stuck his tongue out at her, and was rewarded with her familiar giggle as she plopped down next to him, nestling her head onto his panting stomach. "You're mean when you want something."

"How do you think I got Squall?" she pointed out. Zell couldn't tell if she was joking or not. "Besides, I know you. If I don't pester you about it, you'd never do it."

"You don't know anything," Zell scoffed, waving his hand in circles in the air above them to elaborate her ignorance. "Your world is shrouded in pink clouds and bunnies and other girly things. You know nothing of the hardship of the fiddle."

"The hardship, huh? The difficulties of learning such a precise instrument, right?" Rinoa smiled warmly, directing a puff of breath towards her forehead to rid herself of a persistent ebony lock dangling limply before her dark chocolate eyes.

"Exactly." Zell's left hand found her right, and their fingers intertwined, resting on her stomach.

Rinoa observed this contact with interest. She supposed that were this male she was so physically close to were anyone other than Zell, she would feel guilt, and a nagging feeling of cheating on her three-year boyfriend. However, when she discovered that Zell had a thing for hugs, and usually no one would supply due to his high-energy exuberance, she was more than happy to oblige. Zell had, for as long as she had known him, been a rather touchy-feely kind of guy, and thought nothing of cuddling with any of his female friends, much different from a particular sharp-shooter she knew who took any contact from the opposite sex as an invitation to their bedroom.

Once, when the Orphanage Gang -and herself- had decided to lounge in the rec room, simply to watch videos and snack on incredibly unhealthy foods, Zell had occupied the couch, and was satisfied to have Quistis and Rinoa both at his side, both huddling deeply into his safe and caring embrace, with Selphie squealing dramatically into his chest, the tiny brunette grabbing the lapels of his jacket and slamming her face into his shirt -effectively stealing his breath- during the scary parts of the movie. Irvine had been late, ordered to report that Squall was backed up with paperwork, and thus be unable to attend their 'party' until later. The Galbadian eyed the women atop the martial artist, but sighed, shaking his head with a chuckle and a murmur that sounded suspiciously like 'pimping' when Selphie shrieked again, bounding up and hiding inside of his large leather duster from the creature clawing viciously at the screen.

Squall had arrived well after the movie was over and another had began (a 'chick flick,' much to the wailing protests of the men), his eyes flashing with something akin to jealousy and anger when spotting his girlfriend draped over a sleeping Zell. However, such feelings vanished from his face as said Sorceress bounced up with a giggle, startling poor Zell from his sleep, and scampered over to the commander, tackling him and showering his face with kisses. Later that night, when Squall had finally worked up the courage, he confronted her about it, only to have her laugh and supply this response:

"Silly! Zell's not you."

To which he offered her an even stare that read clearly: 'You, woman, make no sense.'

Rinoa had sighed, and, petting her boyfriend's hair, offered another explanation. "When I'm around Zell, holding his hand or cuddling with him, it's more like being protected and loved by a big brother, or a really close friend. There's nothing sexual or romantic involved when we touch." Squall had been satisfied with her statement -and several reinforcing displays of affection from her soon thereafter- and, after talking with Zell and receiving the same 'sibling affection' answer, thought almost nothing of their closeness. Almost. A guy is a guy, and could still be jealous.

So that's why Rinoa usually reserved the physical affection for when Squall was elsewhere, at times such as these. Of course, what she had said was true; she felt so safe when with the born-and-raised Balamb resident. Of course, she felt safe with Squall, but there was also that fiery unknown around the brunette that made the passion of the relationship. "Y'know, I really do feel safe around you, Zell." Rinoa lifted her hands and examined his strong, slightly scarred fingers between her own pale, smooth, soft ones.

"Stop it, I'm blushing."

She reached up, lightly slapping his chest in a weak chiding gesture. "I'm being serious!"

"So am I." Rinoa propped herself up on an elbow to confirm that, yes, Zell did have a light pinkish tint to his cheeks. She smiled softly, lightly touching his tattoo, admiring the black, intricate swoops and curves unfazed by the blood rushing to the skin beneath. "You need to stop being so shy, Zell."

He sighed, eyeing her expectantly. "I know."

"I mean, it, really." Deciding on a topic change, Rinoa flopped over Zell's stomach, snickering at the _oof_ sound issuing from his mouth as he glared at her. "Do you...remember when we were in the Galbadia prison? After the assassination attempt?"

"...Yes." Zell's expression grew dark, clouding over with resentment and anger.

Rinoa roused herself numbly, feeling oddly comfortable for her last memory being so-

"Squall!" she screamed, sitting up abruptly, and almost immediately, a warm, strong arm was encircling her, bringing her back to whatever was so comfortable.

"Shh; you'll wake up Quistis and Selphie."

Rinoa turned her gaze skyward, noting in the horribly depressing lack of light that the commentator was Zell, and, placing two and two together, realized that it was his thigh she had been resting on. Blushing furiously, she moved away from him, kneeling on the cold steel floor and shivering.

Zell sent her an unreadable look, then, with a swift wiggle, shod his jacket and offered it wordlessly to her.

Rinoa accepted the gift with the same silence, slipping the large article over her shoulders, clutching the jacket -still warm, and smelling sweetly of chilled sweat- around herself. "Thank you," she whispered, wondering why the blonde was being so kind towards her. He had never bothered to show her anything above begrudging tolerance before, believing her to be possibly even more immature than himself. Now, he was being almost...nice? Protective, even?

A quick glance towards the subject of her inner debate proved the previous point. Both Quistis and Selphie were resting against his other thigh, and he had one arm draped across them, as if shielding them. Seeing her stare, Zell attempted to shift his weight, wincing as something disagreed with his movement.

It was then that Rinoa noticed the heavy bruises littering his bare arms, a particularly ugly one flaring beneath his tattoo, small lacerations dotting his body, or at least what was visible, and there was a bit of dried blood leaking from a cracked lip, and out from both nostrils. There was even blood still leaking from one of his ears, and judging by the way Zell was gingerly favoring his stomach, probably some bruises beneath his shirt as well.

"Zell!" Rinoa gasped, scooting towards him quickly, placing a trembling hand on his shoulder. "Zell, what happened to you?!"

"Guards decided to rough me up," he grunted, shaking her off.

"Zell! Are Quistis and Selphie okay?" A brief look-over informed Rinoa that she was right, and they were fine. Suddenly, the raven-haired girl turned her sharp gaze onto Zell, suspicious about his role. "Why...why didn't the guards beat us up, too?"

"'Cause you're girls."

"Didn't seem to bother them when they knocked us out," she pointed out skeptically.

Zell shifted his weight timidly, hissing in pain and flinching away from his injuries. "I dunno. Guess they just didn't want to bother."

Rinoa, curious to discover the real reason, but finding herself exhausted from the excitement, settled herself onto the floor, curling tightly into Zell's jacket in a desperate attempt to stay warm. A soft sigh sounded from behind her, and she felt a hand gently touch her shoulder. "C'mere, you're gonna freeze." Rinoa cast an inquisitive glance towards the martial artist, who had reclined onto his back, Selphie and Quistis huddling unconsciously into his embrace to stay warm. Rinoa gave him a doubtful look, to which he returned a comforting smile. "I won't bite, I promise."

"I know..." Rinoa crawled over to Zell, laying gingerly next to him, and he encircled her with his arm, drawing her close when something occurred to her. "Hey...how come you didn't Cure yourself?"

"They've got some kind of barrier up; none of our magic'll work in here. Besides, I'll just save them for when we bust out, we'll probably need them." He rubbed her arm with a calloused hand, and Rinoa felt her eyelids droop, lulled into a satisfying sleep by the warmth radiating from his arm and side.

Unconsciously curling closer to him, she readjusted his jacket to spread across all four of them, and tucked her face into his side, throwing caution to the wind and letting her arm rest atop his abdomen lightly. "I sure hope Squall's okay," she murmured worriedly.

"I can guarantee that he's okay, probably better off than we are. He's really good at taking care of himself, he's been pulling the Iceberg Act for years, and has it down to a science." Rinoa giggled, drifting off to sleep before she could even recognize her signs of weariness, comforted by his steady breathing.

"...can't...just stop freaking out..."

"Stop?! -ell, you know...you could've...why'd...raped us...!"

"I...they never...why do you think-?!"

Rinoa jolted awake, the words finally sinking into her mind and, registering the danger, she snapped into awareness, sitting up, her eyes darting over to a startled Quistis and Zell, who looked as if they were currently in an argument, despite the fact that Zell's head was resting on her lap and she was stroking his hair, his breath coming in painful gasps.

"Zell! What-what's going on, what's wrong- what did I hear about someone getting raped?!" Rinoa demanded, scurrying over to them and shooting both blondes -and a previously hidden, crying Selphie behind Quistis- desperate looks.

Quistis' jaw set, and she opened her mouth to explain when Zell reached up with a whimper and covered her mouth. "No." He said simply.

"Whaddya mean, no?!" Selphie shouted at him, seemingly angry at him and pitying him at the same time.

"She deserves to know."

"She doesn't deserve to be scared."

"I think I can handle it!" Rinoa protested childishly, her fingers curling indignantly into fists. "Tell me."

"The guards..." Quistis' voice was low, Rinoa forced to lean in to hear her words, "they...tried to rape us -you, me and Selphie- while we were unconscious."

Rinoa froze, her fingers trembling at her lips. "Th-they-"

"They didn't," Zell assured her firmly, reaching over and giving her other hand a comforting squeeze. "They didn't, okay? I think you'd know if they did."

"But why didn't-" And then it clicked. Rinoa looked down at the beaten Zell in horror, tears welling up in her eyes. "Why did you...did they-?"

"No, they didn't rape me," Zell snorted, shifting and wincing in discomfort. "They just decided to fight with me...and give me a few handicaps."

"Handicaps?"

"Yeah...y'know, stuff to make it a fair fight, like shackles and a promise to hurt you girls if I tried to get loose."

"Zell..."

The blonde smirked, closing his eyes. "I still managed to give one of them a bruised eye and another a bloody lip and broken nose." Rinoa's lips trembled, and she slowly crawled towards him, her knees jerking in protest to the pain of the hard metal floor, but she ignored it, reaching out with a hand shaken by tremors to carefully smooth some of his drooping bangs from his face. The smile slipped from Zell's lips, and he fell unconscious, suddenly going limp in Quistis' arms.

Rinoa decided then and there that, if they escaped everything alive and intact, that she would be forced to ask Zell Dincht to marry her.

"I never got to ask you," Rinoa began, thoughtfully smoothing her thumb over knuckles scarred with use, "why did you do that?"

"...You gotta be kidding me."

"No, I'm not."

"W-well...y'know, isn't it obvious? I couldn't just sit there and let them do that, y'know?" His voice was suddenly filled with venom, and chilled Rinoa to the bone. "Men who do that..._anyone _who does that…abuses their strength to dominate and harm others...I hate them..."

"Zell, they could have just knocked you out and had their way with us anyways. Why didn't they?"

Zell was quiet, so quiet that Rinoa had thought that he hadn't heard her, but then he spoke. "I taunted them...called them weak for picking on some girls instead of fighting a real man...and..."

"...and what?" she prodded gently.

"And after the fight, when I was on the floor, they tried to go after Selphie, but I grabbed his ankle and...crushed it in my hand. I think after that they figured I wouldn't let them within ten feet of you guys, unconscious or not. Besides, they wanted to heal up, and after they left and I went to dream world, they came back to take you away. Things happened too quickly after that."

The two were silent, staring up at the blue sky, watching purple and gray clouds gather in the distance before Rinoa released Zell's hand, pushing herself up onto her knees and leaning over him, her black locks dangling over his face and tickling his skin. She smiled joyfully, leaned down quickly and pecked him on the cheek. "You do realize that now I have to marry you, right?"

Zell grinned, back in 'playful blonde' mode. "Take a number, baby, and find your way to the back of the line."


	4. IV Quistis

A/N: I do not own Final Fantasy 8. Also, there is a huge-ass hurricane about to ravage my home, so it'll be a while before I can update again. Sorry, kiddies!

IV. Quistis

.

.

.

"I'm sorry, there's just no more room in Mr. Dincht's class; you'll have to try next semester. And I suggest you don't wait for the last minute to sign up. Martial Arts 101 has been filling up in one or two days prior to the required schedule dates."  
  
"Yes, Instructor," the boy sighed, pushing his chair back and shuffling from the room, hanging his head.  
  
Quistis mirrored his reaction, rubbing her temples instead of leaving her office. That was the third student she'd had to turn away from Zell's martial arts course. It was already past full, and as much as it disappointed her to turn pupils from learning, she simply wouldn't load Zell down with too many children to teach. He was, after all, only twenty years old, and still acted like a child, himself. Most of the time.  
  
After the battle with Ultimecia, when the world discovered the heros, the saviors of the world, their popularity had skyrocketed. Everyone knew everything about everyone; their favorite colors, their dreams, their family, their mannerisms.  
  
Their weapons.  
  
The world learned that Zell, one of the three to face Ultimecia at her last, possessed no weapon save his own body (and his fighting gloves). And the world was astonished that a single person could cause as much damage as was reported to a being as invincible as a Sorceress without a weapon to rely on. Following those days, hordes upon droves of SeeD candidates had opted to specialize in hand-to-hand combat, rather than take up the more popular weapons of swords and guns. They all aspired to become the next 'Machine Dincht.'  
  
Strange things concerning the six were sprouting up everywhere, such as wild rumors and even new forms of slang. A 'Dincht Knockout' had actually become a popular saying. It was used as a comparison in boxing, grades and attractive women. Of course, all the boys' names were being transformed into titles, mostly in reference to women, much to the amusement of the girls. A 'Kinneas Flirt, Leonhart Iceberg, Dincht Knockout...' Thankfully, Selphie, Rinoa and Quistis had been spared this, erm, honor.  
  
Quistis set aside her papers, standing at her leisure and stretching with a glance at the clock hung upon her office wall; it was late, but a late night visit to a certain martial artist's room was due. Locking the door behind herself with a simple security code -her numerical birthday- Quistis made her way quietly down the SeeD dormitory hallways before stopping before one she had often viewed before. A quiet rap of her knuckles, a one, two, five minute wait, and Quistis was ready to admit defeat and try again in the morning when the door slid open, a groggy Zell leaning against the frame, blonde hair un-gelled and flopping around his eyes. Blue boxers and a loose gray T-shirt adorned his body, one hand idly scratching his tummy beneath his shirt and lifting the fabric to give Quistis a brief glance at tanned, muscular abs, his other hand attempting to hide a rather large yawn. Zell gave her a look with half-lidded eyes, their bright, baby blue clouded over with sleep, lips pouting in a way that only heavy unconsciousness could cause. "Quis."  
  
She nodded her head towards him. "Zell."  
  
His look was as deadpan as any of Squall's. "It's one AM. You are at my door at one AM." His expression changed to one more alert, and he snapped to attention, reaching out uncertainly to comfort her from the unknown. "Did something happen? Is everyone okay?"  
  
"Yes, everyone's fine," she laughed softly, patting his shoulder in assurance, watching him relax. "Mind if I come in?"  
  
"If you don't mind the mess," he warned her, reverting back to antisocial sleep-mode, stepping aside to allow her to pass before him.  
  
Quistis picked her way past fallen books and strewn clothing to his bed, complete with rumpled sheets, settling herself down gingerly on the edge, slightly uncomfortable. She watched, detached, as Zell punched the command key to slide his door closed, then pulled his desk chair around and straddled it after turning on the lamp with a light touch, laying his arms across the back of his chair with his chin on his arms.  
  
There was a moment of silence as Quistis attempted to gather her thoughts when Zell interrupted with a grumpy snore. "Quis, I'm tired. I have seventy-six rowdy teenagers to entertain at two-hour intervals tomorrow. I'm planning on winging the curriculum the best I can, which will be piss-poor unless I'm well rested. I'm not trying to kick you out, but what's on your mind?"  
  
"Well, I'm glad you mentioned class...listen, I think you're taking on too many students."  
  
The other blonde snorted, turning his head to the side and resting his cheek against his wrist. "I can handle it. If these kids wanna learn martial arts, then dammit, I'm teaching them. I'm not going to discourage anybody from taking my class, no matter how full it is, because I remember when people made fun of me for deciding on gloves. So I appreciate the concern, but I sincerely wish this could have waited till morning."  
  
"I turned down the third student today for a request to attend your class."  
  
Zell growled. "I thought I told you not to do that."  
  
Quistis sighed, crossing her arms in irritation. "Listen, Zell, I know you think you can do this, take on so many pupils, but I'm not the only one noticing your complete lack of energy lately. Selphie asked me the other day if you were depressed about anything, and even Squall thought about giving you a few days leave to rest up." She stood, giving him her back and shaking her head. "I know you think you can take on the world, and maybe you can, but you're going to make yourself sick."  
  
"Quistis, if all you came here was to bitch at me about my sleeping habits, then you picked the wrong time."  
  
"No." Quistis reeled about, her eyes burning with latent fury. "I didn't come here to just to 'bitch' at you, Zell. We're concerned about you! Stop being so macho and listen to my advice for once in your life."  
  
"Quis! Listen, these kids want to learn something important. Remember back when I was choosing my weapon? Remember how stupid I looked, searching that damn room for a quarter of an hour? These kids want to learn what I did! I'm not going to throw that away!"

.  
  
_"All right, class; today we will be taking a visit to the artillery cache in the training center, and you will all chose your lifetime weapons. I hope you have thought long and hard, as I have instructed, and come to a clear decision. Follow me." A seventeen-year-old Quistis Trepe turned on her heel and lead her class from their stuffy second-floor room, down the hall to the elevator, and, in groups of threes, to the first floor. _

_As the multitude of teenagers marched towards the training center, which had been purged of monsters previously due to the special circumstances, Quistis glanced behind her and noticed that one boy who had always appeared so rowdy in class, Zell Dincht, was unusually quiet, his face downcast. Still only fifteen, he appeared almost as if he were nervous and afraid of something. 'Maybe he hasn't chosen his weapon yet,' Quistis thought to herself, and turned back to the path before her. _

_After trekking through a rough terrain with jungle-like humidity, the troop of Balamb Garden residents arrived at an adamantine door with a palm-activated pad and a retinal scan. Quistis removed her glove, pressing her right hand to the pad and peering over her glasses for the scan. Once the safety procedures were complete, there was a click, and a smooth female voice announced the agenda. "Welcome, Instructor Trepe. Today, your pupils will be free to leave this room with a single weapon of their choice; please, students, refrain from touching the instruments until directed to do so, for your safety."  
  
The door slid open, and the blonde SeeD lead the children into the room, their eyes widening to saucers as they stared at the impressive array before them.  
  
A countless display of weapons greeted them; rows of swords, of every kind from katanas to double-handed broadswords. Shelves upon shelves of guns; pistols, shotguns, automatics, sub-machines, all of them shining and bright. Several curls of whips and chains and even a few pairs of nunchakus hungs from the walls and were draped upon tabletops. There was everything in this seemingly hidden room.  
  
Quistis turned on her heel before her pupils, and cleared her throat to gather their attention, something that still didn't seem to garner a complete audience. She pressed onward. "I will call you up in alphabetical order, and you will have a few moments to decide upon your choice. I will then grant you a few minutes to practice with your weapon of choice, and you may made your final decision to keep that particular choice, or try another. However, choose quickly, for we have many students to accommodate, and none of you are permitted to leave this room until everyone has been properly equipped. First, Almasy, Seifer."  
  
A lumbering boy, one who stood over a head taller than Trepe shambled forward, smirking at his teacher before heading directly towards the gunblade display. Frowning thoughtfully, Seifer quickly decided, reaching for a black blade, automatic pistol mounted firmly beneath the edge, the handle replacing the hilt with an elegant curve. "This," he told her simply.  
  
"Are you sure? Would you like-"  
  
Seifer swept the blade swiftly over the heads of the students, some ducking and screaming as he fired at the adamantine door, not creating a dent but scattering a smatter of black scorch marks across the metal. He sneered, shouldering the gunblade with ease that should not have been so natural. "Yeah, I'm sure."  
  
Quistis glowered at the blonde boy. "Mr. Almasy, please refrain from such unnecessary behavior while in class."  
  
Seifer waved a hand at her, returning to his place in the shadows at the back of the room.  
  
Quistis straightened her glasses, smoothing her SeeD skirt with her palms and clearing her throat once more. "All right. Next, Cadall, Ina."  
  
A small girl stepped forward and chose a lightweight katana, and, after swinging the shining silver blade for a few moments, was satisfied with the weapon, returned to the group.  
  
"I appreciate your self-control, Miss Cadall." Quistis shot a pointed glare towards Seifer, who promptly ignored it. "Dincht, Zell, please step forward."  
  
The short -even shorter than herself- blonde boy shuffled forward, appearing troubled, an expression Quistis was not accustomed to seeing on his tattooed face (where on earth he had gotten such an insane symbol, she could not imagine). "Um...Instructor Trepe..."  
  
Quistis blinked; it was not often that his voice did not take on an excited quality, almost as if he were bursting with energy that threatened to lash out. He wasn't even fidgeting as he usually would when expected to stand still for more than four seconds. "Yes, Mr. Dincht? Is there a problem?"  
  
"Um...I think so. You see..." He clasped his hands behind his back, his cheeks flaring red with unorthodox timidness. "Th-the weapon...I chose last night...well, you don't seem to have it here..."  
  
Quistis gave him a disbelieving stare, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "Are you sure, Zell? We have weapons of every make and style here. What was it you decided upon?"  
  
If possible, his cheeks deepened their blush, and he lowered his eyes to his sneakers. "Um...it was...knuckles, Miss. Fighting gloves."  
  
There was a loud guffaw, and all -save Zell- turned to see a snickering Seifer, his gunblade resting proudly beside him, leaning against the wall and managing to appear as arrogant as its owner. "Gloves? Really, Dincht, and here I thought you couldn't get any dumber."  
  
"It's not dumb!" Zell hollered, hands fisted at his sides as he redirected his shame into anger and aimed it right at the bully. "I bet I could knock you down flat with a good pair of 'em!"  
  
"Not with my gunblade. Not even without it."  
  
"Fuck you and your gunblade!"  
  
"Mr. Dincht! Language!" Quistis admonished, appalled.  
  
"You're a coward, hiding behind your big fancy weapon. Just a sword wasn't good enough for you, you needed a gun too, to feel safe!" Zell snarled.  
  
Seifer's tone was dangerous, and he reached for his newly acquired weapon. "Watch what you say, Chickenwuss, or I'll tear you a new hole to say it with."  
  
"Try it!"  
  
"Gentlemen!" Quistis shouted, and immediately there was silence; Instructor Trepe never raised her voice, so when she did, everyone listened. "You will cease this ridiculously childish banter **immediately**, or I'll have you both expelled!"  
  
Seifer seethed and Zell shook with fury, but neither boys continued, so Quistis resumed her calm demeanor, and turned to Zell with a comforting gaze. "Zell, I'm sure there is at least one pair of gloves in this room somewhere. As I said, we have every weapon, even though fighting gloves are...extremely unpopular. I'm sure you'll find them if you look."  
  
So Zell searched. And searched...and searched. After fifteen minutes of rattles, clatters, and 'oops, sorry's, Quistis was prepared to tell Zell to stop and have some specially shipped from Balamb when he crowed in delight, moving aside a pile of coiled chains to unearth a pair of fine black fighting gloves, metal plates bolted to the knuckles. Bubbling with joy, he slipped them onto his fingers, clenching his fists and relishing in the smell and squeaking sounds of quality leather.  
  
"Mr. Dincht, would you like to test out your weapon?"  
  
Zell glanced around the room. "Where? There a punching bag somewhere?"  
  
"No; however, that wall to your left is a durable but soft foam, used when test-firing guns and aiming whips and such." What she said was true; there were bulls-eyes painted in red, faded and riddled with tell-tale pockmarks.  
  
The soon-to-be martial artist strode over to the wall, and, after shaking down his shoulders, aimed a few punches at the wall.  
  
At least, that's what everyone assumed happened. All that was seen was a blur of motion, and a brief gust of air with a sharp crack before Zell's hand was inside the wall, past the foam, embedded into the thick plaster beneath it. The tattooed blonde's eyes widened, and he gulped, shooting a glance over at Quistis, who had face-palmed, and was muttering something about 'a long year ahead.'_

  
"I know you're worried about me, Quis," Zell told her softly, anger draining from his voice in favor of drowsiness, "but I'm a big boy, and I can take of myself. If I think I need rest, then I'll rest and just let the kids spar during class while I sleep or something. You don't need to be the big sister anymore, you know." He smiled at her.  
  
Quistis whirled around, grasped Zell's face between her palms and pressed perfect coral-pink lips to sleep-dried ones. Either not registering his sound of surprise or not caring, she pushed forward until his back was pressed against the edge of his desk, and she was leaning over the chair, forelocks of blonde tickling the side of his face.  
  
"Qus's," Zell's lips moved against her own, his words muffled. He grabbed her wrists, careful not to bruise her, and pushed her back slightly, panting, face flushed to the brightest of reds. "Quistis, what on earth are you doing?"  
  
"I don't know," she whispered, hot breath washing over his face, her eyes half-lidded in embarrassment and pleasure. "But I'm glad I did." She pressed forward again, her breasts pressed against his chest, and wrenched one wrist from his grip, tangling her fingers into his mussed hair and kissing him again.  
  
"Qus-Qus's-Qu-" Zell yanked his head backwards to escape, but unfortunately forgot about the cabinet he had hung above his desk the week before- and the sharp corners it possessed. "Ow!" he yelped, hands reaching up to gingerly feel the rising goose egg beneath his sun-bleached blonde locks. "Ow, ow, Hyne _dammit_! It fuckin' _hurts_!"  
  
"Oh!" Quistis gasped, jumping backwards, then rushing towards him again, one hand delicately feeling for the bump while the other rested softly upon his chest, her face twisted in worry. "Are you all right? Do you feel sleepy, should we take you to Kadowaki?"  
  
"No, no, it'll be okay," Zell muttered, wincing when her fingers brushed his wound. "Ouch...yeah, there." He sniffled, blinking hard.

Quistis giggled, the hand in his hair rising to cover her lips in an attempt to hide it. "You can take a knock from a Ruby Dragon and keep on going, but one little bump from some wood makes you cry."  
  
"The corners are really sharp," he whimpered, cradling his injury with one hand, shooting a glare at the offending furniture. "I don't even know why I put it there." Tension broken, he glanced over at the blonde whip-wielder, and the smile on her face. "This changes things, doesn't it?"  
  
Quistis noticed her hands on his pectorals, but did not move them. "I suppose it does."  
  
Zell absentmindedly rubbed the bump, looking everywhere except for her face. "Why?"  
  
"Why did I kiss you, or why do I like you?"  
  
"Both, I guess," he admitted, his eyes finally locking onto her own.  
  
"I kissed you because I felt like it...and I like you because you're you." She smiled softly, idly poking his chest with a finger, causing him to blush freakishly darker.  
  
"No offense Quis...but I always thought that you'd go for some serious, studious guy...y'know, someone more like you." Zell smiled shyly, looking to the side. "Not that I'm objecting or anything."  
  
"Well, opposites attract." Quistis sighed, eyes rolling skyward in thoughtfulness. "I can't remember when I first noticing you as something other than a friend. Maybe...maybe during the party after we beat Ultimecia. Yes, I think it was then." She laughed. "Irvine kept trying to get me to dance with him, and everyone had someone...Selphie and Irvine were closer than usual, and Rinoa and Squall simply detached themselves and made out on the balcony all evening...I just felt alone. And after that library girl -what was her name?"  
  
"Alanie," Zell offered.  
  
"Alanie, right. After she ran off, when you scared her by jumping up, you looked sort of alone, leaning against that pillar with your arms crossed. And I felt alone, so I went over to you and we talked the rest of the night, remember?"  
  
Zell nodded, and stood, turning the chair around to sit in it properly, circling her waist with his arms and pulling her down onto his lap to sit. He had done this many other times with the other girls, but now he had an actual girlfriend sitting on his lap, and the very thought made him a bit nervous. "I remember. You gave me lots of good advice that night, too."  
  
Quistis chuckled, tapping his nose with a gloved fingertip. "I'm good at that."  
  
Zell yawned, and resting his head against her shoulder, just above her breasts, eyes batting sleepily. "Thanks a lot, Quistis. I guess...I thought I liked you all along too...I'm just not- well, not so good with this stuff, okay? So be patient with me." He nuzzled her shoulder.  
  
"You're doing fine so far," she commented softly, resting her cheek atop his head, smoothing his hair with one hand, the other finding his and entwining her fingers within his, stroking the side of his palm affectionately with her thumb. She sighed again, happily this time. "I don't know what it is about younger men that I go for."  
  
"Our charm, charisma and boyishly good looks," Zell murmured drowsily.  
  
"...yeah." 


	5. V Ma Dincht

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy 8.

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V. Ma Dincht

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"Hold it still!"

"I _am_, you hyperactive geek! You're just moving around too much. _You_ hold still!"

The Zell on the TV pouted, and Emily Dincht allowed herself a giggle; that was her kiddo, all right.

"That's not very nice to say, Irvine. What a biased judgment, just because you're Galbadian and I'm raised Balambian."

"Don't even get me started, beach boy."

Zell laughed, and rubbed at his eyes with his gloves. "Okay, okay. Let's get started; the others still gotta do theirs."

"Zell, you're the only one of us with any relatives. Who would the others make theirs to?"

The martial artist shrugged. "Dunno. I just know that they wanna make theirs. Who they're to is none of my business. So c'mon, and let's get this show on the road." The blonde's eyes focused now on Emily; or, at least, the camera lens. "Hi, Ma. I haven't seen you in a while, I know. It's been kind of...hectic. I know you never believe me when I tell you we have outdoor class, so I'm not even going to try."

"Good! What a lame excuse, Zell. Really, I thought you had better."

Zell shook his fist to someone off camera. "Shut up, Irvine! You butt out!" Zell cleared his throat, and returned his attention to his mother. "As I was saying, I'm not gonna lie to you this time. Ma, the reason I've been gone so long and haven't been able to visit is because I'm on a kind of 'special ops' mission from SeeD. You remember Sorceress Edea? Yeah, Edea was Matron, and that's all covered now. Matron was actually possessed by an evil sorceress from the future, named Ultimecia. We got Matron un-possessed and stuff, and, well, let's just say everything went downhill from there. Rinoa's got sorceress powers now, and she's kinda possessed by Ultimecia, but not really. Remember Sorceress Adel? She was the one ruling over Esthar a while back? You should remember; it wasn't that long ago."

Yes, Emily remembered. She remembered all too well.

"Well...Squall and Irvine took Rinoa into outer space to see if they could get rid of Ultimecia using Sis, and...well, Rinoa got all possessed on him and set Adel free. So all that red stuff you saw the other day falling from the moon, well...let's say that I was in the middle of it, and it was not fun being rained on by vicious, bloodthirsty monsters."

Emily clapped her hands over her mouth, stifling a scream. Her baby was _inside_ of that hellish nightmare?! Oh, when he got home, she would kill him for being so casual with near death - again!

"So we went to the Esthar capital and talked it out with Laguna –the President- and we came up with a plan. I dunno if you'll be too happy with it..." Zell trailed off, and then gestured for Irvine to move the camera to the left. The view changed from Zell standing before a set of bulkheads to a picture out of a window, with a red sky and landscape. In the middle of the window was an enormous, floating, vaguely rectangular-shaped box that hovered over a circular fortress of some sort. "That," came Zell's voice from somewhere behind the camera, "is Lunatic Pandora, Adel's flying fortress. Someone has to stop her, Ma, someone has to do something..."

Emily stayed silent.

The camera swiveled again to focus on her adopted son, who was looking uncharacteristically solemn. "Ma, there's..." He shifted his weight, appearing extremely uncomfortable, and tried again. "Ma, there is a very, very good chance that I won't come back from this alive. And if you're watching this, then that means that...life and cure magic couldn't cut it this time. Before you freak, Ma, please hear me out." He averted his eyes, and his hands twisted the hem of his jacket uncomfortably. "I-I know that this is really dangerous, and that I'm probably going to be killed and maimed many, many times. And I know that I'm probably going to die for good. And...and I know that you would hate to see anything like that happen to me." He returned beautiful sky blue eyes to her 'face;' they pleaded with her. "But Ma, there's no one besides us who can do this. And...and I've been –everyone has, really, been given a chance to back out, and they wouldn't be thought any less of. But I can't stand by and watch people I've known since before I can remember, kids I grew up with, being murdered, knowing that I could help." He hiccupped, on the verge of tears.

"Zell...you wanna take a break and finish later?" Irvine's voice was soft and understanding.

Zell shook his head feverishly, shoulders shuddering as he forced himself to suck in air. "No, I gotta get it out now, or I never will." He gave a weak laugh. "I really suck at goodbyes, you know?"

"...I know. Go ahead, Zell."

"Anyways...Ma, um...I just wanted to say goodbye, and...and I hope to Hyne that I make it outta here." His breath hitched, and the hands twisting his jacket balled into fists, straining against the material. "Because I really would like to see you again, Ma, 'cause I miss you a lot. But there's not enough time...if we wait so that I can visit you and tell you this in person, Adel might've struck first by then. I'm having Laguna keep this for me, and he promised that if stuff got too hairy in there, he'd deliver it once word got back about...us. But Ma –and I know this is asking way, way too much- don't feel sorry about me, or feel too bad for me. B-because I'll have died knowing that I was doing something _really_ important, not just all those crackpot missions they hand out in SeeD. I'm doing something to make an actual difference, and I can't tell you how good that makes me feel, Ma. It makes it seem that...maybe, I dunno. Someday, the kids at the Garden'll read books about this, and our names'll be in there." Zell gritted his teeth as he hiccupped again, and tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. "And even though I won't be there to see it...Ma, I hate to tell you, of all people, but if it came down me dying and all this ending, I'd take the knife and do it myself. I'm doing this for everyone in Gaia, and especially for you, Ma. And the kids in Balamb, _everyone_ in Balamb. I don't wanna see anyone suffer because I couldn't do something I've been trained for five years to do...so please, Ma. Just...if you get my body back, which probably won't happen, give me a nice, quiet funeral. Not too many people there...just you and you know who else. Any of the Orphanage gang, if they're still around...'cept Seifer. He wouldn't wanna go anyways, and he's sure as hell not welcome, brainwashed or not." The tears began to roll down Zell's tanned cheeks, and he choked back a full sob. "And bury me with my old stuffed bear from the orphanage, and with Grandpa's guns and his picture, and my first pair of gloves. Don't cry too much for me, Ma. I love you, Ma, and even though you never gave birth to me, you'll still always be my only mother, okay?"

Zell's eyes pierced Emily's, even through the camera, and the woman froze, shocked by the intensity of his eyes. There was something so otherworldly about her son at that moment...something more than human, better than human.

"I love you more than anything ever, and nothing could ever change that..." Zell whispered, and drew a deep trembling breath, which was broken at the end by a weak sob. "I love you Ma...I love you. Please forgive me." Zell's hands flew up to cover his face as he began to weep.

"Zell..." The camera was set gently on the floor, and Emily watched through her own blurred vision as someone in brown shoes and tan pants walked over to her son, stood close, and then it appeared as if the two embraced. Quiet shushing sounds could be heard, and then there was silence. The figures did not move.

Emily sat silently still, allowing tears to roll copiously over her cheeks, dampening the collar of her dress. "My poor, poor boy..."

"Ma, I'm home!" A door slammed. "Geez, it's friggin hot outside...I almost died just walking to the grocery store! I don't think Squall wants me on leave, I think he's trust trying to off me by baking me alive." Sneakers squeaked on the tile floor of the Dinchts' kitchen. "You wanted just chicken legs, right? I wasn't sure if you wanted the whole ensemble or not, so I got a package of the other stuff too. That's cool, right?"

Emily did not answer her son.

"Yo, Ma, you in here?" Zell poked his blonde head, for once minus his ridiculous style, into the living room, searching for his mother. He caught sight of her and smiled a smile full of white teeth. "Here you are. Are you watching one of your trashy daytime shows aga-" Zell froze as he recognized the shoes on the tape, and instantly raced over to the television, punching the button to eject the VidDisc and switching the TV off in one fluid motion.

Emily remained silent, watching her son's back as he crouched in front of the television, not moving, his shoulders shaking with –rage? Humiliation? Emily couldn't be sure.

"You weren't supposed to see that, Ma." Zell's voice was low.

"How dare you." Emily's voice, though choked with tears, was dangerous. "How dare you even think to keep this from me. I thank Hyne that Laguna is a father, so he could understand why I'd want to see this no matter what."

"I didn't want you to worry over nothing. If I got back alive, I just wanted everything to be normal and happy again. I didn't want you to be sad, all right?" Zell stood, his back still to his mother, the VidDisc in his hand.

"Zell, I was worried anyways! I didn't know what you were doing- do you realize how hurtful it is to hear what danger your only child was in from _other people_?!"

"It doesn't matter now anyways! It's all over, and there's no reason to cry, so stop crying!" Zell spun around to face his mother, but his expression was not the one of anger she had expected. What she saw instead was sorrow and pain. "I didn't want to you know about this...because I didn't want you to think of me as anything other than your goofy little hyperactive kid without a care in the world. I was trying to _protect_ you, Ma. Why can't you see that?"

"Oh, Zell," Emily whispered, and she stepped towards her son, who was _still_ shorter than her, despite the fact that he was now twenty years old. She took her son into her arms and gently stroked his golden locks. "I've always known you were something more than my 'goofy little hyperactive kid.' I've always known that since...well, since that day you saved me when you were thirteen."

"When was that?" Zell asked, his voice muffled against her shoulder as his powerful arms gingerly snaked around her ample waist, returning the hug.

"After you'd learned how to draw...and I was standing on that balcony in the hotel down the road."

"Oh...yeah, I remember."

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"_Zell, come look at this view!"_

_The teenager sighed, resigning to a laugh and approached his mother, who was leaning precariously over the railing of the balcony to catch a good look at the sun sparkling on the blue ocean before them. "I see, Ma. You're right, it **is** real pretty."_

"_Isn't it, though?" Emily gushed, and at that moment, a powerful breeze ripped her sun hat from her head, tossing it to the wind. "Oh!" Emily cried, reaching for it- her fingers closed around the brim- and she found that her center of balance was now over the edge of the railing. With a startled cry, the plump woman spun, attempting to regain her balance, but all the same toppled over the edge._

_Emily watched as time slowed down, and could see her son's terrified face watching her, heard him scream, and prayed that he wouldn't do anything stupid._

_Zell set one foot atop the railing and pushed off after her._

_If Emily had any control over her motor functions, she would have shouted in frustration. Her child was now the dumbest on the planet. Now instead of just **her** dying, her teenage son, so full of promise, would perish with her. If they both weren't about to die, she'd kill him. _

_Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt, however, when Zell, whose face was streamed with tears, shouted a single word that did not register, his hand inches from her own. As his small but surprisingly strong fingers clasped around her wrist, two brilliantly white, translucent wings burst from his back and flapped. With his golden locks whipping around his face, and the sun above them illuminating his every feature, it would have been extremely difficult for Emily not to associate her son with something else. "An angel..." she whispered, watching as the wings faded and noticing, startled, that she was upright, her feet upon firm ground, and a crowd of gawking Balamb citizens circled around her and her son._

"_Whew," Zell sighed as he settled slowly to his feet, then plopped down onto his backside on the cobblestones. "They didn't say that it'd make you so tired."_

"_Z-Zell?" Emily asked uncertainly. "Wh-what happened just now?"_

"_You fell off the balcony, Ma, and I used a Float spell to grab you." Zell scrubbed the sweat from his brow with his T-shirt, panting. "I got it yesterday at class, with one of their non-aggressive GFs. They wanted to start us off on the gentle stuff."_

_Emily's mouth opened, but closed with an audible click. _

_"That was awesome, Zell!" one of the neighborhood kids, Aaron, laughed and danced over to the blonde. "You looked like a superhero or something!"_

_"That's what I'm workin' on doing!" Zell boasted, and, placing a hand palm down to steady himself, pushed himself up to his feet. "You just wait...I bet when I'm older, I'll be so cool and strong that **everyone** will know me!"_

_Emily could say nothing as the crowd around her congratulated her son, laughing and clapping him on the back for his daring rescue. Zell soaked up all the attention, until he spotted his mother gaping at him, and immediately, the smile dropped from his face. "Uh, thanks a lot, but I think I'd better get Ma home, okay?" Zell bid his farewell to the multitude, then took his mother's arm and slowly led her home._

_Shutting the door behind himself, Zell turned to see his mother staring at him with something akin to awe. "Ma? Are you okay?"_

_"Zell...you said you...used a spell?" Emily slowly approached her child._

_"Uh, yeah Ma. Are you in shock or somethin'?" Zell allowed his mother to embrace him tightly as she leaned over slightly to bury her nose into his hair._

_"I'm fine, sweetheart. Just a little...shaky, is all." Emily nuzzled the young teenagers hair, squeezing him tightly to herself. "I want you to promise not to leave me, all right?"_

_"Sure, Ma. You know I wouldn't leave you," Zell assured her, somewhat surprised with her insecurity. "I'm only an hour's drive away, Ma, it's just school. Besides, I'm not supposed to move into a dorm until I'm fifteen, so you still got me almost 24/7 for a couple more, right?"_

_"No, Zell...I mean...don't leave me alone."_

_"Oh." The child fell silent, then piped up hopefully. "Well, y'know Ma, I'd never do something like that without telling you first. I mean, going to a whole new place by myself would be kind of a big deal."_

_Emily had to laugh then, convinced that while her son may be something special, a genius he was not. "Thank you, Zell. I would like for you to tell me before it happens, okay kiddo?" She ruffled his messy blonde hair and released him._

_He glared at the nickname, but soon his animosity melted beneath her loving grin. "Okay Ma. I promise."_

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"I was just living up to the promise, Ma," Zell told her quietly, and let go of his mother to return to the kitchen. "You know I'd never do something I didn't know if I could handle without telling you first, right?"

"I know, dearest. And I'm glad you were planning on telling me...but you specifically told Laguna not to give that to me unless he already knew you were dead. That wouldn't be telling me before it happened, you know." Her voice was stern again, and Zell knew he was in for a lecture.

"Ma, I told you, I was trying to protect you," he replied irritably, knowing that tone would only make matters worse, but wasn't inclined to care. He shoved a package of raw chicken breasts into the freezer with more force than might have been necessary. He turned to face her as she stood tall and defiant in the doorway.

"I don't need protection from this, Zell." Emily's voice was cold, but immediately she followed with a softer statement. "I want to know everything about my child, not just his happy and strong moments. I want to see everything about you. You are very precious to me, baby, and I can't let a single moment slip by."

"Ma..." Zell blushed deeply at this praise and folded his arms, turning his gaze down to the tile.

"You grew up a lot during that...'special ops mission.' I didn't get to see it."

"I don't think I would have grown up at all if I hadn't done it," Zell answered honestly, scuffing a sneaker on the floor. "I think I'd still be the same I was four years ago."

"You are much quieter and calmer than you used to be," Emily admitted.

Zell laughed, and turned back to the counter, rummaging through the cabinets for the proper cookware to being the feast his mother was planning. "I think fighting Ultimecia took most of the energy I have for the next ten years."

There was a knock on the front door, shortly before it creaked open. "Zell? You said it was okay if I just walked in, right?"

The man jerked, then grinned widely at his mother, bouncing from the room with all the energy he possessed at seventeen. "Quis! I didn't know you were dropping by!"

There was the tinkle of a light female laugh, and she answered him, her voice muffled through the wall. "Well, Squall was getting bored without you there, and you know how he is when he's bored. Even more grumpy than usual. Besides," her voice took on a seductive lilt, "I thought it would be in both our best interests to see each other again. I was lonely."

"Quistis, my Ma's here!" Zell squeaked nervously, and poked his head into the kitchen, Quistis giggling behind him, a profound blush gracing his cheeks. "Ma, is it all right if I take Quistis to the docks before dinner?"

"You don't have to ask me, you're a grown boy," Ma told him with a smile. 'Not that much calmer.'

"Thanks, Ma." Zell's red face disappeared, and Emily heard the whisper of footfalls towards the front door.

"Shouldn't we stay and help her make dinner?"

"Nah, we'd just get in the way." The door handle rattled as Zell opened it for his girlfriend. "Besides, she'd probably kick us out after a while. She likes being in the kitchen, I think she fancies it her territory. You should see her stalk it during get-togethers and parties."

"Like Irvine and the female students?" There was laughter, and the door shut.

Emily smiled, and rustled around in the utensil drawer for a serrated knife. "I'm happy for you, angel," she whispered.

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End file.
